


My Heart is Here and Here is Home

by HALLElujahaha



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 04:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HALLElujahaha/pseuds/HALLElujahaha
Summary: The first nights they spend at each others homes after TRK





	My Heart is Here and Here is Home

Ronan stopped outside the doorway and watched Adam as he walked towards Matthew’s old room, his head hung low. 

“Parrish,” he said, looking from Matthew’s door to his own. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

Adam mumbled something about blankets as he stepped passed Ronan and into his dark room. He stocked around the bed, taking it all in. He’d only been in Ronan’s room a handful of times, due partly to the fact that they spent most of their time at Adams, and the undeniable fact that Ronan also tended not to allow people in there. The weight of what this meant for Ronan, what Adam meant to Ronan, did not escape Adam. As Ronan tidied up a bit, for Adam’s sake, Adam reveled in the feeling. His eyes hovered over the half-assed miniature toothpick replica of the New York City skyline, the stack of painting supplies shoved into a cardboard shoe box, an abandoned pile of unmatched socks, Ronan’s body. 

It was the opposite of Adams, well, everything. He didn’t have clutter; he had space. His apartment, although old and dusty, was as organized and pristine as Adam could get it. He only had necessities; a bed, a blanket, a table with a few chairs, and his books. People always used words like “minimal” or “tidy” to describe his apartment. Ronan’s room was not minimal, or tidy. It was messy and dingy and exciting. It was Ronan. It was him in every corner, in every article of clothing, in every CD case, in every page of every superhero comic book. The room was so Ronan that Adam instantly felt right at home.  
He turned to face Ronan’s hunched shoulders. He was pushing pencil shavings off of his desk into a waste basket with stickers all over it. Without acknowledging Adam, he walked to the other side of the room to his closet, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants, throwing one at Adam and pulling on the other. Adam fidgeted awkwardly with the sweatpants in his hands. Ronan’s back was turned to him, messing with something on the top of his dresser. Adam threw his jeans on the desk chair. 

“There’s a lot of…” 

“Shit?” Ronan guessed.

“I was going to say character. But that, too.” 

Ronan spun to face Adam, his left eyebrow quirked slightly, his chapped lips falling into a sad smile. Adam’s eyes felt heavy, because he was tired, or happy, or sad, or all of them at once. It was all too much. And then Ronan sat on the bed next to Adam and bumped his bare shoulder with Adam's, and all of it, everything, wasn't enough. 

"Sleep." Adam said, and Ronan flinched. 

"You first." 

"Ro-"

"I don't want to bring anything back while you're here. We already know you can't handle it for shit." 

Adam let out a heavy sigh and lay on his back, dragging Ronan with him by the elbow. 

"You might bring night terrors back from your dreams, I might choke you, again. We're even."

"Fuck you, Adam." Ronan said, and Adam listened for the familiar snake venom in between the vowels and uncertainty that came with Ronan, but there wasn't any. "That wasn't you. It's not you. It'll never be you."

Adam's fingers still wrapped around Ronan's elbow, and he let them trail up the back of Ronan's arm to the veins on his wrist. Ronan grabbed Adam's hand and kissed his knuckles before laying Adam's hand flat across his own chest. Adam felt Ronan's heartbeat in his fingertips. 

"We survived today, hell, we survived this past year for God's sake. I think we can survive whatever comes out of that chaotic brain of yours." 

"Are you flirting with me, Parrish?" 

"Go. The Fuck. To Sleep." Adam whispered, tracing Ronan's spine through the worn cotton of his tank top. 

***************************************

Adam chucked his shoes to the corner of the entryway, knocking down a stack of books he’d been meaning to get to. He regarded them with a heavy sigh, throwing his jacket on the kitchen table. He pulled a chair out with his foot and set his face into his greasy hands. The sudden smell of gasoline left him feeling light headed. He needed a shower. 

He grunted as he got up, his back sore from bending over cars all day. His left foot was already on the cold tile of the linoleum floor, but a light from the crack in his bedroom door stopped him. He turned to it instead, cracking it open slowly. Ronan was sitting at the edge of the bed, his head bowed, eyes closed. He didn’t look up when Adam closed the door behind him, or when he sat next to him. 

“How do you keep getting in here?” Adam asked. It came out a whisper, although he didn’t know why. 

“Your spare key hiding place is shit.” 

Adam smirked. “And here I thought you’d been climbing in the window.” 

“As if, Rapunzel.”

“Ever the romantic.” 

They sat like that for a moment, in silence, until the headlights of a car through the windows blinded them both. Ronan watching his fingers mess with a loose thread on his pants while Adam watched him do it. He looked tired. Not didn’t-get-enough-sleep tired, he was always that kind of tired. It was more like got-into-a-fight-with-his-older-brother tired. Suddenly, Ronan lifted his head to face Adam.

"Like the view, Parrish?"

"When it shuts the fuck up, yes."

Ronan grinned despite himself.

“Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Yes, yeah. Of course.” Adam cleared his throat. “Always.”

He watched as he made his way to the make shift bed he always slept on. Adam realized, just then, that it’d been a while since he’d stayed in it. Then, like a slap in the face, he remembered why. Ronan had been in Washington for a week or so, spending time with his brothers after his mother’s sudden death.

“Ronan?” 

Adam took a step closer, his hand grazing Ronan’s cheek. His thumb rubbed at the stubble on his chin before falling to his neck. His fingers hovered over the bruises, faded but still there. Adam tried to keep his hand from shaking, failing miserably. He let the tips of his fingers glide over the marks that had been left there, slowly working his way across Ronan’s adam’s apple and to the other side, ending up at the edge of his jaw. Ronan swallowed. Adam curled his fingers into his palm and stuffed his hand into his pocket. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, his breath tickling Ronan’s ear. 

"Don’t be an idiot, Parrish.

Ronan’s eyes were closed, his head tilted back slightly. Adam replaced the place his fingers had been with his lips. 

Ronan groaned. “You smell like a garage.” 

Adam laughed into his collarbone, leaving goosebumps on Ronan’s skin. Ronan put his hands on either side of Adam’s head, kissing the top of it. He scratched at the nape of Adam’s neck.

“I missed you, Adam.” 

“God, I missed you, too.”


End file.
